


Maybe Just For Tonight

by agentlemons



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: AU, F/M, Fake Dating, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, High School Reunion, James! (you know him - the jerk that turned evil on us in canon), Kara! (i miss herrrr), Lance HUnter - Freeform, Raina! - Freeform, a tiny bit of angst but not awful because i suck at writing angst lets be real, also as another side note this takes place within a season 4 placemat so fs look mighty good okay, also featuring:, also makes an appearance - Freeform, and idek why i keep saying booger so ill stop now - Freeform, another trope fic (tm) - Freeform, anyway heres 8k+ words that none of yall need but hopefully it makes someone smile, esp fitz, esp fitz in a suit, god help us all jesus take the wheel, i was literally up until 3am just to finish this booger - Freeform, like every fake dating au ever - Freeform, lorelei! (yep shes in this too), now for the real tags, ps: the formatting on these tags are super weird sorry, side note: i still love him, sigh im such trash - Freeform, that goober, we have fake dating but they wish it was reeealllllll
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-09-14 14:11:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9185176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agentlemons/pseuds/agentlemons
Summary: When Jemma gets an invite to her high school reunion, she instantly panics. She isn't about to face the same place - and same people - who gave her hell all those years ago. Better yet, she isn't going to face italone.A(nother) Fitzsimmons Fake!Dating AU.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [amazingjemma](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amazingjemma/gifts).



> Credit to the amazing [theskyefalls](http://archiveofourown.org/users/emmathecharming/pseuds/theskyefalls) ([tumblr](theskyefalls.tumblr.com)) for helping beta this for me!  
> And also a massive thank you to [amazingjemma](http://archiveofourown.org/users/amazingjemma/pseuds/amazingjemma) ([jemmamaximoff on tumblr](jemmamaximoff.tumblr.com)) for giving me the following prompt on tumblr: "omg yes hello maybe another prompt??? maybe fitzsimmons and "It’s my highschool reunion and I need a hot date so I can rub it in the faces of the people who hated me" pls and thank yOUUUU"  
> Hope you enjoy this ole!

"I need you to do me a favor." Jemma's hands fidget with the hem of her sweater, but her eyes stare directly at Fitz.   
  
Fitz, who always expects favors such as a back rub or a run to the store for "ladies things" - he always mentally cringes when it's the latter - didn't think anything of it and just said, "Sure. What do you need?"   
  
"I need you to be my boyfriend for a night," Jemma says, stumbling over her words at the speed she uttered them.   
  
His head snaps to look at her and his eyes are twice the size. "What?"   
  
She takes a deep breath, rolling her eyes behind her closed lids, and repeats herself. "I need you to be my -"   
  
"No, no no. I heard you the first time." He stands up from the couch, and walks over to her. He places his hand on her forehead, and she tries not to burn up at his touch. "Hmm. No fever."   
  
He contemplates things for a second before asking, "Are you drunk?"   
  
She swats his hand away and walks around him, picking up some littered clothing that he drops at the end of the day. She just needs something to do to distract herself- and to stop the shaking in her hands.   
  
"I'm most certainly not drunk, Fitz. I was being serious." She folds his clothes and places them neatly on the couch.   
  
"No."   
  
His single word causes her to spin around to face him, and she tries to mask her disappointment.   
  
"Please?"   
  
"No, Simmons. Absolutely-bloody-not!"   
  
She leans up against the couch and huffs. It's not like she was asking him to do anything impossible.   
  
He licks his lips and looks at her, something unknown glistening in his eyes. "What brought this on?"   
  
She walks over to the dining room table and grabs her laptop, clicking on her mail tab as she walks. She shoves the computer in his direction, and he adjusts his eyes to the brightness.   
  
Reading the words on the screen, his frown deepens. "What does this have to do with me being your pretend boyfriend?"   
  
She sighs. "It's my high school reunion, Fitz! Do you know who's going to be there?"   
  
He shrugs, handing her back her laptop. "I guess people you graduated with."   
  
"Exactly!" Jemma flops over the arm of the couch onto her back, the clothes she had folded pressing into her back. "Which means those girls who teased me back then are going to be there. Probably with their rich husbands and fancy outfits and new nose jobs. And I'm going to be there alone and -"   
  
She peeks up over the back of the couch to see Fitz holding back laughter. "This is no laughing matter, Fitz!"   
  
"I'm sorry," he wheezes out between laughs. "But Simmons, why would you care about what those girls think of you? They might have their fancy lives and rich husbands, but you have a lot more beauty than those fake nosed bullies do."   
  
Jemma sniffs. "You really think so?" She tries to avoid the fact that Fitz referred to her as a "beauty," but a slight blush still pushes up her neck.   
  
"I know so," he says with a warm smile. "You don't need someone by your side to compliment you. You're Jemma Simmons."   
  
She smiles. "I am."   
  
A brief silence fills the air before he clears his throat. "But seeing as though I have nothing to do tomorrow night, and I'd never hear the end of this if I don't agree, I'll be your boyfriend."   
  
"Are you serious?" she exclaims, already hopping off the couch to fully face him.   
  
"As a brain injury," he responds, a cheeky grin playing on his lips.   
  
"Shut up, you," she mutters, as she throws her arms around his neck and embraces him. She ignores the swoop in her stomach at the feel of his arms around her waist and his chest against hers.

 

\---   
  
"Simmons? I need help with this bloody tie! It won't -"   
  
The rest of his sentence dies on his lips as she opens the door forcefully and he takes in her appearance. She's wearing a simple red dress that reaches just below her knees, with her hair hanging in curls around her face and red lipstick to perfectly compliment her dress.   
  
But scratch the details; she looks beautiful.   
  
When he finally comes to his senses, he catches a glimpse of Jemma looking from his chest up to his eyes.   
  
_ Wait, was she checking me out too? _   
  
Fitz had a swooping feeling in his gut at that thought. All he had done was thrown on his suit that he admitted was a tad too tight, and last minute decided not to shave. It's not like he's tall, dark and handsome. But the way Simmons was staring at him -   
  
"Fitz?" She calls out, waving her hand - her nails also red - and he smiles at her.   
  
"Sorry," he says, "what did you say?"   
  
She sighs. "I was saying," she repeats, stepping closer, "that we should practice how we're going to act at this event to make it believable."   
  
"Oh." Fitz hadn't thought of that. "Right."   
  
She steps closer to him, and he was afraid she was going to go for it without even discussing anything, but she instead has her eyes focused on his tie. She adjusts the tie all the while he looks down at her without her noticing. She fixes the collar of his shirt, her nails slightly scraping his neck, and pulls it over the tie. Smiling up at him, she pats his chest and he fears she'll hear his rapid heart beating. She instead shuffles past him, and he follows blindly, settling down on the couch next to her. When she turns to him, he silently gasps at how her red lips bring out her eyes.   
  
Dammit, Fitz! Stop thinking about her like this.   
  
It seems his little - scratch that, it's slightly more than little - crush has come back with a vengeance.   
  
"So," she begins. "I should let you in on a bit of what happened when I was in high school." She's fidgeting with the bracelet around her wrist.   
  
"I was, as you can imagine, quite the nerd. I was fascinated with science, I loved to overachieve, and I never got a failing grade." She took a deep breath, and kept looking down as she exhaled. "These girls - the 'popular ones' - used to make fun of me every day. Whether it was my geeky glasses or my flawless grades or my social awkwardness, they always found a reason to tease me. I wanted to tell a teacher about it, but then I thought it would make me look like a coward. So I kept persisting through their teases. And about halfway through my senior year, I had enough of it. I had jumped down their throats one day, yelling at them, teasing them. But it didn't do any good. Because I didn't have any friends to defend me."   
  
"And so I was the loser who tried to stick up for myself, and the only thing I ended up with was a detention and a black eye."   
  
When she looks up at him, he has to force himself to close his mouth. She releases a loud sigh and stands up. "There's um - there's other parts to the story I'd rather not divulge at the moment. But I've never really told that story to anyone else; you'd be the first. Even my parents don't know the whole story."   
  
Fitz stands up to be level with her and places his hand on her arm. "You're not alone," he mutters, his face bending down close to hers. "I was beat up and teased almost every day by the same losers who didn't have anything better to do."   
  
She peers up at him through her eyelashes. "Well, I guess we both had an awful time there, didn't we?"   
  
He laughs. "Yeah, I guess we did."   
  
She pulls away from his grasp, but stays within reach. "I just want to show all of them that I'm not who I used to be. That I've changed; that I'm doing great things with my life. That maybe I'm..." She pauses.   
  
"That you're what, Jemma?"   
  
He could've sworn he heard a sharp intake of breath coming from her mouth, but if anything it could've come from his own.   
  
She whispers, "Loved."   
  
He doesn't know what to do after that word steals his breath, so he pulls her closer instead. Placing a kiss on her forehead, he whispers, "You are loved."   
  
He can feel her smile into his chest, and Fitz senses something warm bubble in his chest from the feeling. When she pulls away, she gives me a wide smile, her teeth seemingly whiter when placed next to her red lips. He smiles in return.   
  
"Thank you for doing this for me. I wouldn't want anyone else by my side tonight."   
  
"It's my pleasure. Truly, Simmons."   
  
She moves forward, and Fitz's pulse increases rapidly, but she only pulls back again with a stern look on her face. He gulps.   
  
"Before we go out tonight, we need to set some ground rules," she states, sinking back down onto the couch and crossing her legs.   
  
Following her move, he sits down beside her, but keeps his distance. "Shoot."   
  
"Number one," she says, with her hand gestures following suit. "No calling me Simmons."   
  
"Okay," Fitz responds, "so what am I supposed to call you?"   
  
"Just Jemma is fine."   
  
"So if I call you 'Just Jemma,' it won't sound weird, right?" He asks. Jemma punches his arm.   
  
"Alright alright, I get it. Jemma it is," he says, rubbing at his arm. "Next."   
  
"Next," she sighs, "comes the actual 'convince-others-we're-dating' part."   
  
\---   
  
Jemma's stress levels hit an all time high when she sees what used to be hell every day for her slip back into view. Fitz must have noticed because the next thing she realizes, his hand is grasping hers in her lap. She instantly relaxes and squeezes his hand back. "Thank you again for doing this, Fitz."   
  
They had agreed - well, Fitz had begged - that Jemma not call him Leo for tonight. That was an interesting five minute debate.   
  
"It's no problem, Jemma," he says, and she finds that she really likes the way he says her name. "You've saved me from a night of doing nothing."   
  
"And besides, it's a bit thrilling what we're doing."   
  
"You really think so?" Jemma asks, turning her head to look at him.   
  
"Oh for sure," he says, nodding. "Going to a place you hate, lying to people you hate, eating free food. What's not to love about this plan?"   
  
Jemma laughs, already feeling the weight roll off her shoulders. She's ready now for whatever will happen.   
  
Fitz turns off the car and gets out, crossing to the other side to open the door for her. "Come on," he says, looping his arm through hers, "let's go be the best damn pretend couple that's ever been."   
  
\---   
  
"It seems so much larger than I remember," Jemma whispers as they weave through the narrow doors of the school.   
  
There's already a ton of people straight ahead, mingling against lockers and hugging old classmates. Jemma tightens her hand against his arm, and he pulls it from her tight grasp to lock his hand with hers instead. Giving him a tight lipped smile, she lightly pulls him ahead towards the old gym, where the main event is taking place.   
  
It's like what he always imagined his own reunion would look like: the old classmates, the red tinted room from the red bulbs, the former teacher's pets that help organize everything even after all this time. He's seen all of it in every show and story he's encountered. And yet, it's still a bit different.   
  
Because he never thought, not in a million years, that if he ever went to a reunion he would have someone by his side like Jemma. Not once.   
  
He can feel Jemma tense up beside him as they move into the gym, unable to back out now. Another squeeze of the hand and they're thrown full force into the action, Jemma's (quite fake) smile radiantly shining at old classmates.   
  
She immediately drags Fitz over to the closest table filled with flutes of champagne, and she grabs two of them, placing it into the hand that wasn't currently in a death grip. "Jemma," he says, bending down to murmur into her ear, "try not to squeeze my hand too much. It's as if you're afraid I'm going to fly away."   
  
"I'm sorry," she whispers back, "I'm just a bit nervous, that's all."   
  
"There's nervous and then there's lack of circulation, Jemma," he says jokingly, "and the color of my hand is halfway through the rainbow by now."   
  
She loosens her grip on his hand and he can feel the blood rushing back into it. He adjusts his body so he's looking across at her instead of craning his next to speak to her. Besides, the temptation is less strong when he keeps his distance.   
  
"Remember what we talked about," he said in a low voice, looking around as two people walked past them. "Just pretend it's a test. You like tests."   
  
"Right. A test," she repeats back to herself, taking another deep breath. She takes the liberty of scanning the room as she takes another sip of her champagne- more of a gulp, really.   
  
"You do know you can't really get drunk on champagne, "Fitz says, teasingly, "And that goes especially for you." And it was true: Jemma is hard to get drunk. In their ten years of friendship, he's only seen Jemma really drunk a couple times. From dates gone bad to nights out drinking, he's seen her down drink after drink and only feel a bit tipsy after the third drink. But when she gets really drunk, that's when Fitz really has to look after her. And that's definitely something he wants to avoid tonight.   
  
"Sadly," he hears her mutter into her glass, and he laughs. But the moment is short lived as someone walks up to Jemma.   
  
"Jemma Simmons?" Jemma looks up at the mysterious figure and she breaks into a wide grin.   
  
"James?" Setting her glass down on the table, she reaches up for the guy’s neck and embraces him tightly, and Fitz most definitely doesn't clutch his glass harder at the sight. She had told him about James before they left their apartment. Second youngest student in her class - Jemma was the youngest - and also suffered his high school career in the least fashionable way. He was worse off than Jemma, though. But from the looks of him, with the slight stubble and the longer hair and missing the glasses and braces he had back then, he could definitely see her type in him. When she pulls away from the hug, Fitz strains to put a smile on his face.   
  
"It's so great to see you again. You look great!" She steps back, closer to Fitz, and he slips his arm around her waist. He tries to ignore the surprised little jump she gives as a result.   
  
"You do too. Truly!" he responds, and flashes a smile at her.   
  
"I almost didn't recognize you, to be honest. What ever happened to you during our senior year?" For someone who was so nervous about tonight, Fitz thought Jemma was doing exceptionally well.   
  
"Well," James says, laughing, "A majority of my days were spent in the nurse from the many water rides I took in the bathroom and the bruises that the wedgies left on my -"   
  
Fitz chokes on his champagne and sets his glass down, coughing and bending over a bit, his arm sliding off Jemma's waist. She turns to him and pats him on the back, and looks back at James with a smile. "Sorry about that. He never learns when to come up for air." She laughs nervously and pats his back one more time, this one with more force, and his coughs subside. When he stands up straight again, Jemma is looking at him worriedly. "Are you okay?"   
  
"Yeah, fine," he responds immediately.   
  
A little reassuring smile from her makes his heart skip, and she turns from him to James. "James. This is my boyfriend, Fitz."   
  
"Fitz? That's an interesting name," he says as he shakes him hand.   
  
"It's my last name. I just prefer to go by that," Fitz responds, letting go of the man's hand and placing it on the middle of Jemma's back.   
  
"Well, it was really nice to meet you, Fitz," he says. Turning to Jemma, he says, "It was great to see you again, Jemma."   
  
"You as well, James. Take care."   
  
James walks away from the table, and Jemma's hand connects with Fitz's arm, smacking it hard. He pulls his hand off her back to rub at the spot. "Ow. What was that for?"   
  
"Do you really have to pretend to die whenever a mildly attractive man talks to me?" Jemma's arms are crossed, and she looks adorable in that stance. But Fitz would never say that to her face.   
  
"I do not -"   
  
"Oh, yes you do -"   
  
"I was clearly having -"   
  
"You could've prevented -"   
  
"And it's so nice to see you were concerned about your boyfriend's well being," Fitz says, emphasizing the title he had received for the night. Jemma let out a long sigh.   
  
"You're right," she said, leaning closer, "I'm sorry." She places a kiss on his cheek, and he can feel his face flushing from the light pressure of her lips on his skin. He wishes she would move her lips a little more to the left. When she pulls away, her hand flies up to his cheek where she kissed him, and she starts rubbing at it.   
  
"You have a bit of red lipstick stuck to your cheek," she whispers. She slides her thumb softly over his cheek, scratching slightly at the stubble, and her face is inches away from his own. When her eyes meet his, they're wider than before, and they're almost communicating something to him. But before he could decipher what it was, another voice interrupted them.   
  
"Jemma?" Jemma turns her head to the side, her hand falling away from his cheek, and she smiles at the young woman standing in front of them. "It's me, Raina."   
  
Jemma's hand twitches by Fitz's side, and he pulls it into his, smoothing his thumb over the back of her hand like she had done to his cheek. "Wow. You look great!" Fitz could instantly tell that Jemma was faking, but of course he wasn't going to bring that up now. Raina was one of the girls who weren't that great to her in high school.

  
"Thank you. You grew up to be quite beautiful yourself," Raina said, and Jemma smiled a genuine smile. Getting validation from her past enemies was something Jemma had talked to Fitz about before the event, and it seems that she's beginning to feel better about herself.   
  
"Who's this?" Raina asks, gesturing to Fitz.   
  
"Oh," Jemma says, adorably jumping a bit and turning to face him. "This is Fitz. My boyfriend."   
  
"Wow, Jemmy," Raina responds, and Jemma's hand tenses in his own. He knows how much she hates that name. "You've got a good one here, Fitz," she adds, gesturing to Jemma. He looks down at Jemma just as she looks up at him, and he has to resist the urge to close the gap. It would be his duty, in order to keep up appearances, but he doesn't. Yet.   
  
Instead, he smiles down at her and whispers, "Yeah. I do." Her smile beams up at him, and his heart does another little flip.   
  
"There's my husband," Raina comments, clearing her throat to get their attention. "It was really nice to meet you, Fitz. And great to see you again, Jemma."   
  
"You too," they say in unison.   
  
Another smile from Raina and she was off, and Jemma follows her gaze to look at Raina slipping into step with a man whom she presumes to be her husband. Only to see it was James.   
  
"I'm about as shocked as you look," Fitz says, and she chuckles curtly.   
  
"Who would've guessed?" She asks incredulously.   
  
Leaning forward, he stretches up to whisper in his ear. "Walk with me?" Pulling away, he nods and she squeezes his hand guiding him past old schoolmates and out the double doors of the gym.   
  
\--- 

  
A hour of meeting old classmates flows by, and Jemma can feel herself relaxing just the tiniest bit.   
  
The hallways are partially empty now as Jemma guides Fitz through them, her hand still entwined with his.  _ Just so that I don't lose him _ , she says to herself.  _ Not because I want to. _   
  
Pulling him down a long, dimly lit hallway by the old familiar faces, she stops by the lockers. Looking up at the number - 536 - she nudges Fitz. "This was my locker for three years."   
  
"Three?" he asks as she slides her hand up the cold metal.   
  
"Yeah," she replies, without looking back at him. "I had to switch lockers a couple weeks into my sophomore year. Lorelei - the one I had told you about - somehow prepared this concoction and stuck it in my locker over a four day weekend. Needless to say, the smell still resides in that locker, and my nose, to this day."   
  
Fitz cringes and Jemma turns back to look at him, but a familiar face mingling with some unfamiliar ones makes Jemma's blood run cold. "Fitz?"   
  
"Yeah?" His eyes search hers, and she feels her heartbeat rapidly increase as she speaks.   
  
"I need you to kiss me."   
  
"What?" Fitz asks in disbelief.   
  
Jemma rolled her eyes. "I don't want to repeat myse-"   
  
Jemma doesn't get to finish her sentence before Fitz backs her up against her old locker and places his hands on her face, looking deep into her eyes. She could easily get lost in them. Her pulse quickens, and she almost grabs his tie to pull him down where she wants him, but he closes the distance before she can make a move.   
  
It's different than she thought it would be, kissing Fitz. She'd always thought it'd be something she'd regret. Something that would happen while they were drunk, that they would forget it by the next day and move on. But if Jemma were drunk by any means, it was by the way Fitz's lips move over her own.   
  
The kiss lasts less than ten seconds, barely enough time for Jemma to respond as  enthusiastically as she wants to. When Fitz pulls away from the kiss, he doesn't go far. His forehead is pressed against hers, and their breaths mix together. She slowly opens her eyes to see his own staring down at her, the blue in his eyes a darker shade. Her hand lifts up to his cheek, her thumb stroking along the stubble on his cheek, in the same motion as she did before. But Fitz backs away slowly before she can close the distance between them again.   
  
"I uh-" he begins.

 

"I'll be right back," he says, his eyes lingering on her own before he turns and walks away. He turns a corner, and Jemma frowns.   
  
He doesn't even know his way around the school.   
  


\---   
  
"Hi, Jemma."   
  
Jemma turns her head to see the familiar face that she now recognizes as Kara walking towards her. She looks the same as she did in high school - long dark hair, olive skin, beautiful smile. Out of all the girls who gave Jemma hell in her high school experience, she envied Kara the most.   
  
"Kara! How great to see you again," Jemma says, pushing herself away from the locker. Kara's arms wrap about Jemma and she's pulled into a tight hug, and Jemma's too shocked at the sentiment to return it.   
  
"How have you been?" Kara asks as she pulls away.   
  
"Um, good. I guess," Jemma replies with forced enthusiasm.   
  
"Well," she says, moving in closer as if to share a secret, "it seems you're doing better than just 'good.'"   
  
Jemma looks at the woman, puzzled.   
  
"Oh come on, Jemma," Kara mused, "I saw that man you were with. He was hot. And the way he kissed you - goddamn I wish I had someone like that."   
  
Jemma can't help the blush creeping up her neck.  _ I wish I had someone like that, too. _   
  
"What's his name and where can I get one?"   
  
Jemma smiles. "His name is Fitz. And he's one of a kind, unfortunately."   
  
"Damn. He looks like a really good guy."   
  
"Yeah," Jemma says sadly. "He is." Someone who had agreed to be her pretend boyfriend tonight because his best friend forced him to. She sighs.   
  
"Kara, I have-"   
  
"Hey," Fitz suddenly says, walking up behind Jemma and slipping his hand around her waist. He places a kiss on her temple as if it's the most natural thing in the world.   
  
"Hi," Kara says, "You must be Fitz. We were just talking about you."   
  
"Hopefully all good things," he says, turning to Jemma. She smiles halfheartedly, nodding.   
  
"And you're her boyfriend?" Kara asks.   
  
"Yes I am," Fitz says confidently, and Jemma sneaks a glance up at him, only to see him smiling down at her. She quickly looks away.   
  
"Well, I think you've got a really great girlfriend here, Fitz," Kara says, smiling at Jemma. "She grew up to be such a beautiful person."   
  
Turning only to Jemma, she continues, "I feel really bad for all that happened in high school. Lorelei never should've done all that she did to someone who didn't deserve it. But, it seems that all of our lives turned out a lot different than back then, so-"   
  
“It was great to meet you, Kara. But I really wanted to show Jemma here something I found while I was walking," Fitz says, gesturing behind him. "Come with me." His hand slips into her own, almost naturally.   
  
"I'll see you around, Jemma." Kara places her hand on her shoulder and squeezes. before backing away. "Nice to meet you, Fitz. Take care of her."   
  
"I will," Fitz responds, squeezing Jemma's hand. She squeezes it back.   
  
\---   
  
If Jemma was freaking out as much as he was over the kiss, she didn't show it.   
  
And he hoped he definitely wasn't showing it.   
  
The truth was, he didn't want to pull away. He wanted to stay close to her, feel the push and pull of her lips against his, convey to her just how he feels without saying anything, but he had stepped away. He mentally kicked himself for kissing her in the first place. Just because she told him to, and he really really wanted to, didn't mean he had to go through with it.   
  
"You um," Jemma pipes up as they walk down a hallway. He glances down at her. "You did a good job back there. With making everything seem believable." The waver in her voice makes him cringe inwardly.   
  
"Yeah," he says, scratching the back of his neck with his free hand, "Sorry about that. I kind of caught you off guard-"   
  
"No, no you didn't," Jemma interrupts, her voice slipping into what Fitz knows very well as one she uses to cover up something. "I asked you to do it. You merely just played along to help our story."   
  
Fitz realizes that they had stopped walking in the middle of the hall, and people are merely moving around them. She tugs on his arm and they migrate to the side of the hall. The handle of the door Fitz is leaning against digs into his back but he doesn't care.   
  
"You did well." Jemma's small voice brings him to attention. 

 

"With the k-"   
  
"Jemma? Jemma Simmons?"   
  
Fitz watches the word kiss die on her lips as she turns to the interrupter, plastering a fake smile on her face once again.   
  
"Yes?" Jemma asks, clearly a tad annoyed.   
  
"It's, um. It's Lorelei."   
  
Jemma's eyes grow wider and wider as the revelation hits her. The one person who made her life a living hell in high school stands in front of her and Fitz. And she looks...normal.   
  
"Wow," Jemma says, "You look different."   
  
Lorelei just smiled at her, and Fitz recognizes it as genuine.   
  
"Time will do that to a person, Jemma. As it did to you." Lorelei looks Jemma up and down  and he can feel her tense up a bit next to him. "You look great. Truly."   
  
"Thank you," Jemma mutters.   
  
"Listen," she continues, "I really had an objective when I came here tonight, and that was to make things right."   
  
"I look back on my years here, and I'm not happy with who I was. I was terrible to you, always picking on you and making your life miserable. But that was because my home life wasn't the best growing up and I felt like I needed to take it out on someone. And so I took it out on someone whom I was jealous of."   
  
When Fitz sneaks a glance at Jemma, her face emits nothing but pure shock.   
  
"You were jealous of me?" she sputters.   
  
"How could I not be? You always had the perfect grades, and the nicest attitude; the teachers loved you, and you had your whole life going for you. All I did was screw it up by doing what I did."   
  
"And besides," Lorelei says, "I turned my life around because of you. I even got a job in the science field, and I love what I'm doing. I just thought you needed to hear all of that. And I'm really, really sorry for all I did back then."   
  
Once she finishes, Fitz looks down at Jemma, where he finds an odd expression on her face. He wasn't sure what was going to come out of her mouth.   
  
"Thank you," Jemma replied in a small voice, lifting her head up to fully smile at Lorelei. That, in turn, makes Fitz smile as well.   
  
After a brief moment of the two girls making small talk, Lorelei turns unexpectedly to Fitz. "You must be her boyfriend, I assume," she says, smiling back at Jemma.   
  
"Uh, yes. I am. I'm Fitz," he says.   
  
"I must say Jemma, you have quite nice taste," Lorelei comments. "How long have you too been dating?"   
  
"Well technically, we've only been dating for a few months. But we've been best friends for over 10 years," Jemma explains, and Fitz takes the initiative of pulling her a bit closer to him. She fits in perfectly against his side, he concludes.   
  
"Wow. And you guys never made a move before then? I mean, 10 years is a very long time to be 'just friends' with someone you're meant to be with, right?"   
  
"Yeah, it is. But truthfully, I was just afraid of what he would think if he found out how I felt." Lorelei makes an excited noise and a comment about how she would love to hear the story of when Jemma knew, but Fitz's mind was so fogged up by what she said that he couldn't hear a thing. He bends his head down to look at her while she was speaking, but it was almost as if Jemma were speaking into space rather than at him or Lorelei. He knew better than to break her concentration while she was on the brink of a story.   
  
"We lived in the same apartment complex. He had come up one afternoon to ask if I had seen a lost shirt of his that might have mingled with someone else's laundry. And, as it turns out, I ended up having his shirt as well as my identical one. Whenever he saw me, he would tease me about that shirt. Every single time. And, of course, I played along. It was a nice way to get a conversation started with him. And after a couple weeks of talking, he mentioned that his roommate's girlfriend was moving in and Fitz didn't want to stay there and intrude on their privacy. So I, out of complete idiocy, asked if he wanted to move in with me. But he accepted anyway. So we were just two people living together, informing any dates that we brought home about the living situation. And everything was quite perfect. That is, until I had to go and develop feelings for him.   
  
"It was our fourth year of living together, and I had just gone through a really tough break up. He was a totally jealous wanker, as Fitz put it that night. Anyway, he was out with a girl and I got a bit drunk after being dumped. I ended up calling him and telling him what happened. And the next thing I knew, he was coming through the door with two full bags of groceries in both his arms. All my favorite things, too. I vividly remember everything from that night. How we sat on the couch and ate all the food, how we slipped under a blanket and watched old movies-"   
  
Jemma pauses for a brief moment, as if thinking of the right words to say.   
  
"How he held me while I recalled what happened. And I remember looking up at him that night, and seeing how much someone could care for me. From that moment on, the thought and the feeling of something more always flooded my mind; whether it was a lingering glance or an unnecessary touch. Somehow, I knew he felt the same way, even before he told me."   
  
Fitz has to physically stop himself from excusing themselves from Lorelei, pushing Jemma into the closet behind them, and kissing her with every ounce of his being. He immediately snaps out of it and instead bends down, placing a delicate kiss on her temple.   
  
"Look at you, Jemma! I'm really happy for you." Lorelei then turns to Fitz, and he can feel his face heat up. "Well she told her story. I really want to hear yours now, Fitz."   
  
"I um - I'm sure you don't want to. I mean, believe it or not, it's pretty much the same story as Jemma's," Fitz says, scratching the back of his neck. But the look on Lorelei's face says that he's going to have to tell I anyway.   
  
"I technically started falling for her the day we met. As soon as she opened her door, I knew that it wouldn't be the last time I would see her. And it wasn't, because I always found ways to bump into her. It was childish of me, really. I never really went out on dates that much, so I wasn't experienced when it came to girls. But something with Jemma was different. It was easy to be around her and talk to her. Sometimes too easy, as I idiotically mentioned my previous living dilemmas to her. To be fair, when she asked me if I wanted to move in with her, I short circuited. I must have been frozen on the spot for a couple seconds before finally responding. But it was nice, getting to know her. And I didn't want to do anything to jeopardize our blossoming friendship, so I just kept pushing my feelings to the side. But seeing how she was with her ex really brought them back to the surface. I wasn't jealous; there were just certain things he did that I didn't like. To be honest, I was a bit happy when she said they had broken up. But I was also upset because it hurt her. And so, I did as any other friend would do and I brought home her favorite things. And I remember sitting with her on the couch, both of us huddled under the same blanket, with her head laying on my chest as she soberly recalled her story. And I remember wrapping my arms around her and kissing her head comfortingly and just holding her while she cried. But I also remember her dozing off while in my arms, and I felt more at home than I ever had. I never wanted anything else than just to hold her and make her happy.”   
  
"I had to restrain myself from telling her how I felt that night. She had just gone through a break-up, and the last thing she needed was more drama. But those feelings never went away, not for a moment. And I'm just lucky enough that I finally get to tell her every little emotion I'm feeling, knowing that she'd reflect those feelings back to me."   
  
Fitz says the last statement while looking down at Jemma, whose eyes were fixated on his own. There was something in her eyes that even he, after ten years, couldn't decipher. But it wasn't an unpleasurable expression.   
  
"I don't think I've ever heard anything as in sync as that story," Lorelei mentions, and Fitz has to drag his eyes away to focus on the woman whom he forgot was even standing before them. A beeping noise in her purse goes off, and she pulls her phone out. "My taxi driver - technically my brother -  is here to bring me home. But it was really, really great to see you again, Jemma. And really nice to meet you, Fitz."   
  
The pair are too stunned to say anything coherent as Lorelei backs away, muttering something along the lines of "Be good to each other," over her shoulder as she walks towards the door. When she's out of earshot, Jemma finally turns to Fitz.   
  
"I think it's time to go home," she whispers.   
  
\---   
  
The whole ride home is silent, almost tense. Its an unbearable quiet, one that she tries to break a few times, never quite finding anything to fill the space. Did he really mean everything he said, or was he just improvising? He surely was a better liar than she was. But what she said wasn't a lie; it was all truth. And that's what scared her most. Because the silence could mean something terrible but it could also mean something quite the opposite. And she really hopes it's the latter.   
  
The silence stretches from the car to the elevator. Their flat, being on the last level, provides them with a nice, long trip on the extra slow elevator that has yet to be fixed. Jemma almost screams in frustration as it stops at the level under theirs to pick people up. And out of all people, Hunter - Fitz's former roommate - is the one to be standing there.   
  
"Oh, hey mate! Fancy seeing you here," he says, walking into the middle of the elevator between Fitz and Jemma. As the doors slowly close, he looks at his friend. "You'll never believe who just moved in upstairs."   
  
Fitz shrugs.   
  
"Trip!" he continues, completely oblivious to the obvious tension in Fitz's demeanor. "He and Daisy called me just this morning with the news. Isn't that great? All of us in the same building!"   
  
Fitz just simply nods, plastering an authentically fake smile on his face. But Hunter doesn't take that into account. Instead, he takes in their appearances.   
  
"Whoa. You two clean up nice. Where do you go tonight?" He then gasps. "Were you two on a date? Did I ruin it?"   
  
There wasn't one word uttered from either of them, and Hunter finally registered the tension. "O-kay then," he drags out as the elevator comes to a stop and the door opens. He leaves without another word, leaving Fitz and Jemma alone once again.   
  
They both look up at each other, both daring the other to leave the elevator first, and neither of them move until the door begins to slide shut. Stepping out into the hall, Jemma waits for Fitz to open the door to the apartment, and he almost drops the keys in his hurry. She walks into the flat first, with him following closely behind.   
  
She's beginning to walk away, towards her room, when she finally hears it. "Please."   
  
She freezes, unsure of whether to walk away and pretend she didn't hear anything in the silence, or turn around and finally divest every ounce of her emotions. His next words decide for her, as well as send a shiver down her spine.   
  
"Please tell me that what you said was true."   
  
She then turns around slowly and whispers, "Yes."   
  
Something in his eyes glimmer, a cross between realization and hope, and she's practically begging him with her eyes to close the longest distance they've had by far tonight. But the look fades away as quick as it appeared and he clears his throat, looking down at the floor.   
  
"It's really late and I'm tired as hell."   
  
She waits, hoping he'll elaborate.   
  
"I'll see you in the morning Jemma," he mutters, pushing past her and opening the door to his room, closing it shut behind him.   
  
Jemma is too numb to move.   
  
\---   
  
Fitz wakes up to the smell of food, as he usually does when he gets to sleep in. Jemma's normally up a while before he rises, and she's usually the ones to make them breakfast. But due to last nights events, he has a feeling that the routine might have shifted a bit. Or she poisoned his food.   
  
He swings his legs off the bed and gets up, opening his door after minor hesitation. Jemma is in the kitchen, cooking away, even humming. That's odd, he thinks to himself as he walks into the bathroom to take a shower, as per his usual routine.   
  
When he emerges from the bathroom ten minutes later, the table has been set for two, with pancakes stacked on a plate in the middle. Jemma then comes out of her room to his right, wearing something familiar, and smiles to him as she walks by.   
  
"You almost slept right through breakfast," she says as she sits down in her chair. "I almost had to eat all of these by myself."   
  
He blindly walks over to the table and sits down, too dumbfounded to say anything.  _ Did last night even happen? _   
  
They sit and eat their pancakes in silence, with Jemma making the occasional comment about miscellaneous events he could care less about. When they're done eating, he finally decides that enough is enough.   
  
"What gives, Simmons?"   
  
She looks at him over the slightly smaller stack of pancakes and narrows her eyes, tilting her head to the side. "What do you mean?"   
  
"You know exactly what I mean," he says. "Why are you acting as if last night never even happened?"   
  
She shrugs. "Because obviously you don't feel the same way so what's the point in pretending anything from last night was real and worth reliving?" She says it so casually that it stuns Fitz.   
  
She stands up, carrying plates from the table into their kitchen, and Fitz finally gets over his shock to say, "Excuse me?"   
  
The tone in his voice causes Jemma to stop in her tracks.   
  
"Last time I checked, I practically begged you to admit that your feelings you spilled out were real."   
  
"Oh yeah?" she adds, her voice rising higher. "And last time I checked, I agreed. I said yes, Fitz!"   
  
"And I even used that weird eye communication thing we do to beg you to cross the room and do something about it." Her chest is heaving now, as is his own. "But no, you left. You said you were tired, and you left."   
  
"And it hurt like hell," she continues, walking out of the kitchen and towards him. "It hurt when my best friend, whom I had just admitted to that I had feelings for him, just left me hanging, not even knowing if those feelings were reciprocated."   
  
They're only inches apart now. He can see the emotion bubbling up in her chest, and the way she pushes down the tears that are threatening to surface.   
  
"I'm not leaving you hanging now."   
  
His body moves before his mind does and he crosses the distance between them, crashing his lips into hers. She instantly responds, her lips moving incessantly against his and her hands grasping at whatever will bring him closer to her.   
  
This is exactly what he wanted to do the night before; he wanted to kiss her until she couldn't breathe, tell her everything that he's been feeling since day one, and if things went smoothly he would've woken up this morning with her next to him.   
  
But he had been too scared to realize that she might feel the same. He couldn't accept that someone like Jemma Simmons could possibly feel anything more for him than just friendly thoughts. But as she kisses him with a force that knocks him breathless, he can't not accept it.   
  
He pulls away hesitantly to catch his breath, and she groans in frustration. He loops his arms around her back and pulls her closer, hugging her into his chest. He can feel her breathe heavily into his chest, and he grins at the fact that he is the cause of it. She stays cocooned in his arms for a bit, both of them trying to come up with something - anything, really - to address the change in their relationship. But a loud beeping noise disrupts what would've been said.   
  
Jemma groans loudly, and it vibrates through his chest. "It's been going off every half hour since I woke up. It's driving me bloody insane."   
  
Fitz pulls away from Jemma, much to his dismay - and her own - and walks over to his laptop, where the beeping is coming from. He opens up his email and sees something pop up that makes his eyes go wide.   
  
"What is it?" Jemma asks, moving towards where he's seated on the couch.   
  
Fitz clicks something and sets the laptop down on the table for her to see.   
  
"Your high school reunion," she says under her breath. "It's next weekend."   
  
"Yeah," he breathes, "and I already hit the 'accept' button."   
  
There's a lingering silence in the air after he says that. And then they both speak at the same time.   
  
"Did you wanna -"   
  
"Is it okay if I-"   
  
They both stop talking, smiling at each other. "Go ahead," Jemma says, nudging his arm.   
  
"I was wondering if you maybe wanted to go with me. To my high school reunion." Fitz looks up at her, hoping she'll respond in the affirmative, but then his big mouth decides to speak before he can stop it. "And I promise I won't ask you to be my fake girlfriend."   
  
"Oh," is all Jemma says.   
  
He moves closer to her and swiftly pulls her into his lap, and she places her hands on his shoulders to maintain her balance.   
  
"I was actually thinking," he says, tilting his head back to look at her, "that you'd be interested in a more permanent position."   
  
He watches as realization dawns on her features and a grin spreads wide on her lips, and she readjusts herself so that she's half straddling him. He has to resist the urge to groan.   
  
"How about this?" she begins, speaking in a low voice to where he does emit a groan. She hesitates before continuing, as if she's still working out the details in her head. "Think of it as a trial run, seeing as though our last one wasn't quite accurate."   
  
She leans in close, her nose almost touching his and adds, "And if it succeeds, I'll consider taking you up on that permanent position you were talking about. Deal?"   
  
He nods, gulping despite the dry throat.   
  
"Good." She smiles, and just the sight of it gives new meaning to the feeling of butterflies in one's stomach.   
  
"Now," Fitz says, splaying his hands over her lower back, "I've been waiting 10 years for you so please, kiss me."    
  
Jemma is more than willing to oblige. Leaning down the rest of the way, her lips settle over his, and she places her hands on his face, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. A hollow feeling - the good kind - settles in his stomach and he grins against her lips. He slips his fingers under the edge of her tee and one of his fingers end up fitting through a hole on the hem.   
  
Pulling away, and both panting for breath, Fitz places his head on her shoulder. With his lips brushing against the shell of her ear, he whispers the words that started it all.   
  
"You stole my shirt."

 

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi! I'm [bioforensics](bioforensics.tumblr.com) on tumblr :)


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